


Only The Heart Remembers

by Iridescent_Thilbo_Bagginshield_7



Series: Hearts of Gold [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Violence, possible minor character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iridescent_Thilbo_Bagginshield_7/pseuds/Iridescent_Thilbo_Bagginshield_7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate version of Hearts of Gold. Bilbo loses his memory after being knocked unconscious during battle. He can only remember events before the journey to Erebor. Thorin is completely devastated, knowing that he cannot declare his love for Bilbo yet. Bilbo, however, is in a great deal of confusion. He still harbors love for Thorin, but doesn't understand or remember why. He eventually has to choose to speak to him about it, or stay silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I decided to do an alternate story to Hearts of Gold. It takes place after Thorin kills Azog in chapter 8. Most of the parts will be the same ((from chapters 8 and 9)), but new scenarios will be added. Fíli and Kíli still live, so don't worry. I hope you enjoy the story! It will have a happy ending, I promise.
> 
> In this version, Bilbo is still unconscious at the tower when Thorin finds him.

Thorin grimaced as he made his way down Ravenhill. His upper left arm was killing him; Azog had stabbed him there before he (Thorin) had run him through with Orcrist, thereby slaughtering him. Blood seeped through his makeshift bandage and rolled down his sleeve.

Above him, the Eagles were soaring as voices cheered nearby. He smiled. They had won and the enemy had lost. Of course, they would have lost anyhow now that Azog was dead.

He was eager to join in the celebrations, although he preferred a more quieter atmosphere. But Fíli, Kíli, his cousins, family, and friends were down there somewhere, as well as Bilbo. They would make it worthwhile.

When he reached the bottom of the hill, he saw Fíli and Dwalin running towards him. They had gone back to the mountain just as the battle ended a short time ago. It was not long before they realized that Thorin had never came down from Ravenhill, so they went to find him. However, it turned out that it wasn't necessary to.

He beamed as he walked over to them, relieved they were all right minus some bruises and cuts.

"Uncle!" Fíli exclaimed, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. He embraced him with one arm after he did. "Thank Mahal you're alive!"

"I take it that Azog isn't, then?" Dwalin inquired.

Thorin nodded while thumping his nephew's back. "He's not."

"Good. I knew you'd be able to get rid of him."

Fíli laid a hand on his wrist as he peered at his arm. "This looks kind of bad, Uncle."

"Don't worry about it. It's not as bad as it seems. I will have Óin take care of it. Where's Kíli?" he queried, noticing that he wasn't there.

"Inside Erebor. He's fine, just getting patched up," he added before he could worry. "He said that Bolg had roughed him up pretty good before he, that red-haired she-Elf from Mirkwood, and Beorn killed him. He didn't seem to be paying attention to what injuries he has, though. He's too interested in telling his story to everyone who will listen."

Thorin couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride, joy, and amusement as he said this. "I bet he is. Where's Bilbo? Is he all right?"

Dwalin shrugged. "I don't know. We were forced to split up. But if he _had_ managed to escape the Orcs that attacked us, he's probably in Dale with Gandalf. The Wizard hasn't come back yet either."

He frowned as he turned to look at the nearby city. "I hope he did. If they aren't back when Óin has finished checking my injuries, then I'm going to look for him myself." It would be his fault if something had happened to Bilbo. He made the choice to go to Ravenhill; Bilbo wouldn't have needed to warn him about Bolg's army if he hadn't.

They made their way through cheering crowd when they reached Erebor, hugging their family and friends or pounding shoulders as they did. Thorin looked for Óin after entering the Mountain and saw that nearest empty bedrooms were being reserved for the wounded or dead.

It turned out that it wasn't necessary to find him after a several minutes. Óin walked out of one of the rooms and spotted him immediately.

"Ah, there you are, Thorin! I was hoping that you had made it," he declared.

"Your hopes had been put to good use," Thorin returned. "Where is Kíli? How is he?"

"He'll be fit as a fiddle once he heals. He has a scar on his right cheek an' a smaller, shallow one on his left waist. There are some bruises here an' there too, but he'll be all right as long as his scars don't become infected. He's in the room I just came out of. You can talk to him while I look yer arm over. It's bleedin' down your sleeve! Get in there!"

Kíli was lying down on the bed when Thorin stepped in the room. The red-haired she-Elf that Fíli mentioned earlier was with him, sitting on a chair next to his bed. He was not happy to see her, but he nodded politely all the same. She inclined her head in return.

"Uncle, you're here! So Fee and Dwalin did find you!" Kíli remarked with a wide smile.

"We found each other to be exact, Kee," Fíli joked a little.

Everyone chuckled as Thorin lowered himself onto another bed. He couldn't help but wince as he stared at the cut on his younger nephew's face. It was still vividly red.

Óin assisted him in removing his coat and upper-body clothing. He grimaced when he uncovered the wound on his arm and looked it over. The others winced or pursed their lips.

"Yer a lucky one, Thorin. It's not as deep as I thought it was at first, but it's still deep enough. None of the nerves have been damaged, but there may be some scarrin' even when it does heal. Let's pray that it doesn't get infected, or else your arm might be rendered useless if the infection isn't caught quickly."

He tended to the wound immediately, as well as the bruises on his back, sides, and his right ankle. Thorin didn't make a noise when the ointment and salves stung, but he cringed internally.

After his injuries had been bandaged and cleaned properly, Fíli handed him some fresh garments and his royal-blue coat.

"Thank you," he said before getting dressed.

"I'll change the dressin' every few hours or so. Don't move yer arm too quickly or put too much pressure on it fer at least two or three weeks. It won't heal if ya do." Óin advised as he helped him.

Thorin nodded. "I'll try not to. Did you see Bilbo or Gandalf when you left to bring my clothes?" he asked Fíli.

He shook his head. "No, they didn't come in. I looked outside, but I didn't see them in the crowd either."

"I'm going back out there then," he remarked.

"You oughta stay here and rest. Lay down for a bit, and then you can look for them," Óin fussed. He tried to push him back onto the bed.

Thorin stood anyway. "No. I need to go right now. I'll come back when I return. You have my word."

Óin followed after him as he left the room. No matter how much he argued and threatened, Thorin didn't listen to a word that he said. He finally gave up, muttering under his breath as he went to tend to other Dwarves and Men who needed him.

Thorin searched through the horde of people when he was outside, but Bilbo was nowhere to be found. He called his name as loudly as he could; there was no response.

"King Thorin!" a familiar voice shouted.

He turned to see the Wizard making his way over to him.

"Gandalf!" he yelled back. "I'm glad to see that you're still with us."

"As I am that you are."

He looked around. "Where is Bilbo? Is he with you? I sent him back to Dale after he told me about Bolg's army."

Gandalf frowned. "No...I thought he was still with _you_. I haven't seen him since he left to warn you about him."

Thorin grew pale as he stared at Ravenhill with alarm and horror. "Damn it! He's still up there! I should have checked to see if he was before coming back. Damn it!"

He edged his way out of the throng and bolted for the rams that were nearby. He climbed on one that was lucky enough to be unharmed with some effort. He then turned to Gandalf, who had followed him.

"I'll be right back. Have Óin prepare the bed next to Kíli's in case Bilbo has been injured," he said.

The Wizard nodded before leaving to do as he requested. Thorin dug his heels into the ram's sides and it took off.

 _I'm coming, Bilbo. And_ _ **please**_ _be alive when I find you. Please,_ he thought to himself as the ram galloped across the field.

Moments later, he reached the courtyard. Dead and unconscious Goblins and Orcs lay everywhere. He didn't see a green coat anywhere among them. Nor was Bilbo on the stairs that led to the tower.

It was not until Thorin had climbed to the top did he notice Sting glowing on the floor. He slid off of the ram and picked it up. He knew that its owner couldn't be very far away.

He glanced around. "Bilbo!" he yelled, his voice echoing.

No reply. Thorin started to look for him in spite of his aching feet.

" _Bilbo_! _Bilbo, where are you_?!"

Still no answer.

His heart clenched with anxiety and dread. What if he wasn't here? What if something else had happened to him?

He was passing by one of the tower's stairways when his eyes landed on a still, green-clad figure lying next to the wall.

Yes, it was Bilbo.

Thorin rushed over to him. "Ghivashel! Oh, Ghivashel, please be alive. Can you hear me?" he whispered frantically as he gently shook him.

Bilbo did not wake up or make a sound.

He placed two trembling fingers on his neck before sighing in devout relief when he felt a pulse. Bilbo was alive, just unconscious.

"Oh, thank Mahal. Hold on, Ghivashel. Hold on. It's Thorin. I'm here. I'm taking you to Óin so that he can give you the help that you need. Just hang on for me. Please," he begged in a low, soft voice.

Thorin took off his coat and wrapped it securely around his quivering form. His love was freezing, for Durin's sake! After that, he slid Sting into the scabbard on Bilbo's waist. He carefully lifted him up, ignoring the pain in his left arm as he gave him a brief, but deep kiss on the lips. Then he hoisted him onto the ram and climbed on after that.

He held Bilbo close to warm him as he guided it back down Ravenhill as quickly and carefully as he possible. "We'll be there soon," he murmured. "I will stay by your side while Óin is taking care of you, Ghivashel. I won't leave you for a minute."

Within several minutes, Thorin was slowing the ram to a halt in front of Erebor's entrance. Fíli and Kíli were standing there waiting for him. Tauriel was standing with the latter, having been unsuccessful in her attempts to keep him in bed so that he could rest. Balin was there too.

Dismay, horror, and worry filled each other their expressions as their attention shifted to Bilbo. Thorin climbed off of the ram and carefully gathered him into his arms. They rushed over to them.

Kíli's eyes were bright with tears as he noticed how still and quiet Bilbo was. He choked back a sob seeing the dried blood on the right side of his head and face.

"Oh Mahal, no! It's too late. He's d..." he whispered in a cracking voice.

"No, he's not...just unconscious," Thorin soothed him.

Everyone sighed in relief.

Fíli moved to take Bilbo next. "Here. Let me carry him, Uncle. You don't want to strain your arm and tear your stitches out."

Thorin pulled him into his chest. He didn't want anyone to hold Bilbo except himself. "No! I don't need help. I can bring him to Óin without any trouble."

"Uncle, don't be ridiculous...!"

" _I said_ NO!"

All of them jumped and exchanged glances. Fíli and Tauriel were shocked as well as confused. Kíli and Balin had knowing looks in their eyes. However, they too were stunned. None of them had clearly expected this outburst.

Thorin didn't care about what they might have been thinking. He felt responsible for what happened to Bilbo. Therefore, he would look after him and make sure that he was properly taken care of.

He hurried inside while the others followed him. Gandalf met them in the hall as they made their way to the room both he (Thorin) and Kíli were in not ten minutes ago.

"Oh, thank goodness that you found him so quickly," the Wizard sighed before casting a spell on Bilbo. He was also relieved to see that he was alive. "Óin has the bed ready. We must make haste lest his injuries become more serious."

The said Dwarf healer was waiting for them. Other healers were now tending to the wounded, so he was able to go back to the room. He had been sulking until Thorin appeared, but his frown vanished when he noticed Bilbo.

"Bless me! Wha' happened to him?" he queried in alarm.

"I'm not sure. It's likely that an Orc hit him very hard on the side of the head. Either that, or something heavy landed on it," Thorin responded.

Thorin laid Bilbo down, unwrapping him from his (Thorin's) coat that he used to keep him warm. He pulled the woolen blanket over him after that. Then he sat down in a chair that was next to the bed and gently took his hand.

Óin didn't notice (though everyone else did) as he set to work immediately. He cleaned the blood off of Bilbo's head and face to examine it.

"He has a gash under his temple. Thank Aulë it's not deep and not bleedin' anymore. He must've landed on it or bumped into somethin' really hard after he was hit on the forehead. There's a bump the size of a tree knot there. But we won't know wha' happened fer sure until he wakes up and tells us. _If_ he wasn't knocked out right off, that is," he observed.

"Is his condition very serious?" Thorin questioned, managing to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

""It's serious enough if he hasn't waken up yet, and he might have a concussion.. We'll see after we wakes up. But don't worry too much. He'll recover in time."

He treated the cut and bruised lump with ointment, salves, and medicine that would bring down the swelling. After that, he wrapped a bandage around Bilbo's head, right under his curly hairline.

Thorin found himself blushing as helped Óin undress him so that he could check for more injuries. Not that he had never seen him without clothes when they bathed on the journey. Well, he only saw his upper body anyway. Still, undressing Bilbo was something new in his experience.

He had no other injuries, thanks to the Mithril shirt that he was wearing under his coat. Everyone's eyes grew large when they saw it.

"Where did he get _that_ from?" Kíli breathed.

"Me. I let him have it as a gift because we didn't have armor his size," Thorin replied.

Fíli blinked. "Wasn't this yours?"

"Aye, but I'd rather that Bilbo had it. He needs it more than I ever will."

He rose an eyebrow, but said nothing else. He suspected that there was more to what his uncle had told him.

Óin finished re-clothing Bilbo then. "I'm done here. Now, I want 'im to be on bed-rest for a week as a precaution. If he has a concussion, he can't be movin' around too much, or lettin' himself get stressed out. You can take 'im to his room now. Just don't jar his head or anything. I'll check on 'im later. Let me look at your arm and make sure that your stitches haven't loosened up."

It turned out that they hadn't, but he changed his dressings regardless. He left after that.

Thorin uncovered Bilbo and lifted him up. He used his right arm to carry most of his weight so as not to put pressure on the other, which was aching quite a lot now.

"I'm bringing him to one of the royal chambers. I want him to receive the best care possible while he heals. He wouldn't be injured if I hadn't gone to Ravenhill, so I will look after him when Óin isn't there. Either that, or I will have someone do it in my stead if I am busy," he stated.

"You know that that's not true, laddie. It's not as if you knew that he would get hurt. You would have been there to protect him if you did," Balin noted.

Thorin made no comment on that. He knew that he would always feel responsible for what happened to Bilbo. No amount of attempted convincing would make him believe otherwise.

"If anyone needs me, I will be sitting with Bilbo," was all he said.

"Do you want any help?" Gandalf queried.

"No, I have him."

He stood up regardless. "Well, you'll need someone to hold the doors open for you at least. I'll go with you."

Both of them left the others in the room. As the door closed, Thorin heard Fíli ask in a low voice, "Is there's something going on here that I've missed before?"

They went to Bilbo's bedroom to get his nightwear first, then headed to the royal chambers. Some members of the Company briefly spoke to them on the way, inquiring about Bilbo's state and their health with concern.

Eventually, Thorin led Gandalf to a bedchamber that was around the corner from his own. He thanked the latter when he opened the door for him.

Gandalf assisted him in changing Bilbo's clothes. Thorin kept his head as still as possible while they did. Finally, Bilbo was tucked in under the warm covers.

The Wizard placed a hand on his shoulder after the latter sat on a chair. "I will tell Óin and anyone else who needs to speak to you where you are. I know that you don't want to leave Bilbo's side. It is fortunate that nothing else happened to him, or your circumstances would be bleak. Thank Mahal that it isn't and that you still have the chance to make things right. Use it wisely and well," he murmured.

He left and shut the door after telling him this. Thorin was glad; he just wished to be alone with his Bilbo.

Relief coursed through him for the second time that day as he lifted Bilbo's hand and kissed it. Tears poured out of his eyes as he wept quietly and mulled over what Gandalf said.

He had been so close to losing his One. So close. If he had rested as Óin had ordered him to...if he had chosen to wait until later to find him...he may have been too late. He cried even harder-but still silently-as he imagined all of the gruesome things that could have happened to take his love away from him.

Listening to Óin meant that, unless someone else went to search for him, Bilbo would have been left on Ravenhill to freeze until he was no longer unconscious, but...no. He couldn't bear to think of it.

Irreversible damage may or would have done to his brain. He may have lost some or all of his memory, for all he knew.

Or he may become a child once more-mentally, that is-and therefore need to grow up and learn things all over again.

Worse of all, he may end up in a vegetable-like state.

No matter what happened, Thorin would never have the chance to apologize to Bilbo. Not just about the whole Arkenstone issue, but also for quarreling with him when he (Bilbo) disagreed with his request to not partake in the battle. For not resolving matters with him sooner. For being irrational.

And he would never have had the chance to tell Bilbo that...that...

Thorin laid his face on his chest and sobbed into it with heightened despair. However, he did smile a little, knowing that none of this was to be. They could still put all of their troubles behind them. Add to that, Bilbo would recover soon. He would reveal his intentions to court and marry him after he did. They could plan the rest of their lives together. After all, they had the time and opportunity to, having survived the battle.

He managed to calm down eventually. He used the hand that wasn't clutching Bilbo's to wipe the tears off of his face. He didn't want anyone to notice that he had been crying. Nobody would take him seriously ever again if they did.

For how long he sat there, Thorin didn't know. Óin came in periodically to look them over and change their bandages. He also laid two pitchers of water on the table next to the bed, in case Thorin needed a drink. He knew that Bilbo might be thirsty after he woke up too.

Bombur offered Thorin dinner soon after, but he was not hungry. He told him to save it for later or give it to someone else if he couldn't.

Dáin stopped by to give him a report on who was dead or wounded too. Less than half of his troop was, as well as Bard's. Thorin nearly smirked when he heard that Thranduil was shot in his right leg with two arrows. Luckily for him, neither were poisonous. He would live. Nevertheless, his army took most of the brunt.

He (Dáin) nodded to the unconscious Hobbit once he had finished telling him this. "You and Bilbo are very close, aren't ya?" he inquired.

Thorin inclined his head.

"Mmm. I knew ya had to be since ya haven't left the room in hours. I'm sorry that he got hurt, but I heard that he'll be fine. Well, I'm gonna go now. I know ya wanna be alone with him. But I wish the both of ya good luck."

It seemed as if more people were figuring out the true nature of their relationship.

"Thank you," Thorin muttered.

By the time Óin had finished giving him and Bilbo their last check-up, it was after midnight. The lamps stopped burning, but the room was dimly lit by the flames in the hearth. He didn't notice; he was practically dozing off. His head rested on the side of the bed.

Just as sleep was about to claim him, Bilbo's hand moved in his. He froze as he began to stir next, and then he groaned. He looked up to see that his Ghivashel was taking in his surroundings with blank confusion.

Thorin felt tears of joy well in his eyes as he sat up. "Bilbo?" he murmured in a gruff voice.

He jumped and turned to him with a startled expression. He was all the more aghast when Thorin embraced him tightly.

"Oh, Bilbo, you don't know how happy I am to know that you are going to be all right," the latter whispered.

Bilbo froze, then began to struggle in his arms. "Excuse me, sir! I don't know who you are, but will you _please_ get off of me?!" he demanded in anger, bewilderment, and fright. "Who are you? Where am I? What is this place? This doesn't look like my house! Get off me, I say! You are _rude_ and invading my personal space!"

Thorin paused. Did...Did he say what he thought he said?

He backed away from him. "W-What?"

"I am sure that you heard me clearly, sir. Who are you?"


	2. Three Lost Years

Thorin could only stare at Bilbo.

He had to be joking. All of this had to be a sick joke.

His Ghivashel couldn't have forgotten who he was. He had to be playing tricks on him.

"I'm...I'm Thorin...King Thorin Oakenshield," he responded anyway. "Do you not remember me?"

He shook his head earnestly. "No...I don't. How...How is it that you know me if I don't...know you?" he queried in confusion.

Thorin could not answer him this time. He didn't know what to say; he was frozen with horror.

Bilbo took in his surroundings. "Where am I? This isn't my house."

"E-Erebor...The Lonely Mountain. You are in my kingdom."

"...What?! How did I get here...wherever Erebor is?! Did...Did you kidnap me?! I don't know what you want, but whatever it is, just don't hurt me! Please take me home afterwards...!" he implored in agitation.

Thorin instinctively rubbed his hair. "You need to calm down. In time, everything will be explained to you. I promise that you haven't been kidnapped, but I won't blame you if you don't believe me. And I would never harm you...not intentionally. You do have a couple of injuries, though."

"W-What do you mean?" Bilbo inquired in a timid voice _,_ moving away from him in discomfort. "No. Please stop."

He felt as if he were being torn to pieces. "You were hit on the head...or landed roughly on it. Either way, you have a cut on the right side and a lump on your forehead. That's why it is bandaged."

"But how? What happened?"

He sighed deeply. "We were in a fierce battle earlier today. Erebor was being attacked by one of my foes, who created an army. I'm not sure what happened to you. I had sent you back to the nearby city-called Dale-with my cousin Dwalin after you warned me about the next army that was coming. But he told me that you were both unable to make it there. More will be explained soon.

"For now, just...just wait here. You likely have a concussion, so you have keep yourself from getting stressed out. And it's clear that you have lost some of your memory. I will have Óin, our healer, look you over as soon as he's available. Excuse me."

Thorin left before any more questions could be asked. If he didn't, he knew that he would lose his composure and break down in tears. The last thing he desired was told do so in front of him.

It was not until he was in his room did he finally allow himself to cry. He was completely heartbroken. His love truly did not remember him at all. He couldn't even remember traveling to the Mountain with him and the Company. It was as if he had lost Bilbo in a circumstance that was nearly as terrible as death.

Oh, Mahal. What was he going to do now?

Well, there were a few things that he _certainly_ couldn't do. Not for the time being, at least.

He could not apologize to him about the Arkenstone ordeal, or for the argument they had two nights before. Nor could he reveal his love for him like he wanted to.

As far as their relationship was concerned, it did not exist. They would have to start from the beginning if he wished to pursue one with Bilbo. It would not be easy; he didn't even want him to touch him. Thorin understood why, of course, but still.

This was entirely his fault. If only he had taken him to Dale himself. Nothing would have happened to him then. He wouldn't have allowed anything to. Of course, he wasn't blaming Dwalin for this, no matter how easily he could. They would have made it safely down Ravenhill if the Orcs hadn't forced them to split up.

All he could do now was make sure that Bilbo recovered. In the meantime, he would find out how far his memory went. He would also have to tell him about their journey across Middle Earth. His nephews, the Company, and Gandalf could help.

Thorin didn't know how he was going to explain this to them. He was certain that the news would not be taken well. Unfortunately, they needed to be told. They would find out the hard way otherwise.

He left his bedchamber after an hour and searched for Óin. Before he did, he washed his face. Thorin didn't want him to realize that he had been crying. He didn't see him in the halls, so he peeked into the rooms that the wounded resided in. He found him adding salves to a Dwarf's wound in the eighth one.

"Oh, hello Thorin. I thought you might be sleepin'. Is yer arm or bruises botherin' ya?" Óin queried when he noticed him.

"No, but I need to speak to you after you are finished. It's important," he remarked.

He inclined his head. "Very well. Just wait outside the room, please, an' I'll be right with ya."

Thorin did as he was requested. Óin came out presently.

"All right, I'm done now. What's the matter?" the latter asked.

"Bilbo woke up not long ago. I'm afraid that the extent of his head injury is worse than we thought."

His expression became serious. "How so?"

Thorin led him to the room the aforementioned Hobbit was. "He has forgotten who I am and where he is. There's a good chance that he has forgotten you and the rest of the Company as well."

Óin's mouth fell in dismay. "He lost his memory?"

"Yes."

He shook his head morosely. "That's just plain horrible! I was afraid that this would happen. Did you ask him anything about what he does remember?"

"No...he wasn't very open or responsive with me..."

Thorin completely sympathized with Bilbo in this case, nonetheless. He knew that _he_ wouldn't be open or responsive either if someone he had forgotten, and therefore never knew, practically jumped on him after he woke up in a strange place. No wonder Bilbo was terrified. He wished now that he hadn't embraced him, or stroked his hair. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Óin that.

"...He thought that he had been kidnapped and freaked out, but I managed to settle him down. I told him about the battle, but I don't know if he believes me or not."

"Poor lad. I'm not surprised. Well, I'll see if he'll talk to me as I change his dressings. That is, if he lets me. I don't know what we will do if he doesn't, except give him time to get used to us."

"We'll have to if that is to be so."

XXX

_Meanwhile_

Bilbo stared after Thorin as he walked out of the bedchamber. For reasons unknown, there was an odd twinge inside of him. It was as if...as if he didn't want Thorin to leave, even though he made him feel uncomfortable by hugging him and touching his hair.

He dismissed it and laid down, trying to let the information that Thorin had gave him sink in. He was able to be more rational now that he was calm.

To be honest, he didn't know whether he ought to believe him or not, despite the fact that there was no trace of a lie in Thorin's eyes. He could almost always tell when somebody wasn't being honest.

His promises that he had not been kidnapped...

That he was seriously injured in this...this battle. That he likely has a concussion. That he has a lump on his head, and a cut on the side of it...

That he had lost some of his memory...

Bilbo knew that there was much more behind all of this. Even if he had not been forcibly taken from his home in the Shire, and injured in the process, that still left many questions unanswered.

And if he _was_ suffering from memory loss, it would explain why Thorin embraced him and stroked his hair without a second thought.

Perhaps they were friends. Maybe more, even, if the tears he saw in his eyes before he embraced him were any indication...

No. He wouldn't let that thought continue. It would only lead to even more questions, the answers to which he was not prepared for yet.

He needed proof of his story, however, before he could know whether to believe and trust Thorin...or anyone else. He would leave as soon as possible if he felt that he couldn't. He wondered how far his home was from this...Erebor Mountain, and how long it would take to get there.

With a groan, rubbed his temples. He was getting a headache.

Bilbo cleared his mind so that he could relax. Voices and noises echoed in the distance.

A long time seemed to have passed when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching the room. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

He gulped. "E-Enter!" he half-yelled.

Thorin and an elderly Dwarf walked in. Bilbo shrank into the bed when he saw the latter.

The former smiled as reassuringly as he could, though he felt hurt by his actions. He thought that it was _his_ presence, not Óin's, that caused his uneasiness. "Don't worry, I'm not going to pounce on you again. You will not be harmed. This is Óin, who I mentioned to you earlier. He is going to look you over while asking you some questions. Is that all right with you?" he questioned in a low, soft voice.

Bilbo eyed Óin warily, then nodded cautiously a moment later.

"Oh...well...y-yes, I s-suppose...since it is necessary," he replied.

"All right. Would you prefer that I leave? I can go if you do."

"Er...no...you can stay if you like." He didn't want to be alone with someone else that he couldn't remember. Besides, he felt that odd twinge again.

Thorin nodded and remained by the door.

Óin sat on the chair next to the bed, patting Bilbo's shoulder with a tiny grin. "Don't worry, lad. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Can ya sit up and turn around, please, so that I can treat yer injuries? Thank you. How does yer head feel?"

"I...I do have a headache...but there isn't much pain where the cut and lump is."

"Don't worry. I have something for it."

He narrowed his eyes pensively while he unwrapped the bandage on his head. "How old are you?"

Bilbo cringed as he put ointment and salves on the cut. "Er...I will be forty-eight this September, as far as I _know._ I was planning to have a quiet birthday. That is, unless I'm not forty-seven? King Thorin said that I lost my memory, so I cannot be sure."

"No, you are not forty-seven," Thorin himself spoke up. He was relieved that not too much it was lost. "We had celebrated your fifty-first birthday two months ago. It is after mid-November now. And it's just Thorin. You always called me that."

"O-Oh. Sorry."

"It's all right."

Bilbo was quiet as he digested this new piece of information.

Three lost years. Three years in which he couldn't even imagine or guess what had happened, not even the trip to Erebor. (Or the kidnapping. He didn't know if he had voluntarily joined them or not.)

He eventually cleared his throat. "How long was the journey from the Shire to this...this Mountain? What direction did we go?"

Óin responded this time. "A very long one, I'm afraid. We headed east to get here for six months, give or take a few. We left yer home in late April."

Six months?! Bilbo didn't think that it was possible to be knocked out for that amount of time unless he was in a coma. But if he had been, there was no way he would have been involved in the battle, which Thorin mentioned occurred earlier that day.

Everything was starting to make just a little more sense now. However, this made his situation even more complicated.

He would have to postpone his return to the Shire. Not only because he needed to recover from his injuries; he knew that it would be difficult to travel in the winter. He would have to wait until next April or May to leave. It would be October or November when he finally got back. He prayed to the Valar that all was in order with Bag End, which was the name of his home. He sighed wearily.

Nothing else was said until Óin gave him medicine for his headache.

"There we are. I dunno if Thorin told ya this, but yer on bed-rest fer a week. You may have a concussion, and if ya do, ya can't walk around too much. Try not to stress yerself out or worry a lot either. Yer safe here," the latter remarked as he stood.

Bilbo laid down with a nod. "I'll make an attempt not to."

"All of your meals will be brought to you. I will make sure of that," Thorin added.

"Thank you. Oh, and speaking of which, I have..."

"...Seven meals a day. You told us months ago, don't worry," he explained when Bilbo looked taken aback.

"Ah. Right...sorry."

Both Thorin and Óin chuckled. He found himself laughing with them.

They bid him good-night and prepared to leave a minute afterwards. However, Thorin caught Bilbo staring at him pointedly, so he told Óin to go without him.

"Yes?" he queried once they were alone.

Bilbo shifted. "I want to apologize for earlier...when I woke up, I mean. What I said to you was very rude, and with me being a respectable Hobbit, it is unbecoming of me."

Thorin inclined his head. "I accept your apology. I know that you didn't mean to be rude. Nevertheless, you had every right to be angry. I should have stopped myself."

He pursed his lips. "It wasn't your fault..."

A strange look crossed Thorin's expression. It was as if he disagreed with him.

"...If I truly did lose my memory, you didn't expect me to not remember you. You would have held back if you knew better."

"Well...no, I didn't. Didn't know you don't remember me, I mean. Still, I am sorry for jumping on you. I can imagine that I had frightened you, which led to you becoming upset."

"Yes, you did, but it's all right. You didn't know better. And I accept your apology too, if it helps."

"Thank you. For now, you ought to have some more sleep. You need your rest. We will talk more soon, and there are other people that I have to reintroduce to you. However, I shall wait until you are ready for me to do so."

Bilbo swallowed nervously. "That seems reasonable."

He carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. "No need to be afraid. You had gotten along with them and were even close friends with some. You will find out in due time."

"Mmm."

Thorin exhaled deeply. "Well...good night, Bilbo. Try to sleep," he added in a low voice.

"Good night, K...Thorin," he returned.

With a final nod, the Dwarf king left.

Bilbo did his best to take his advice while making himself as comfortable as he possibly could in an unfamiliar bed. Even so, sleep was long in coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please review! I hope you liked the chapter, even though it's not as long as the others that I write. I had noticed several mistakes in the first chapter, and I fixed them. Chapter 12 of Hearts of Gold will be posted next, then chapter 3 of this story after! Until then!


	3. It is a Pleasure to Meet You...Again

Thorin, on the other hand, did not sleep a wink. He tossed and turned in his bed all night. Bilbo's memory loss kept invading his thoughts whenever he was about to doze off.

He still couldn't believe it. Nevertheless, Bilbo was who he truly felt sorry for and worried about. He was bearing the brunt of all this. He didn't know where he was or why. He didn't know him or anyone else in Erebor. And he was very far away from his home, the only place he knew and remembered. It wasn't fair to him, nor did he deserve this.

Well, he knew that he certainly had his work cut out for him in the morning. He had to explain the situation to everybody except Óin, of course. Then he had to see if Bilbo was prepared to be reacquainted with them. If not, he knew that it would have to wait until another day.

Thorin sighed. Now _he_ was the one getting a headache. It didn't help that his arm was bothering him either.

At six o'clock, he forced himself out of bed to wash up and dress. He left for the dining hall after that. However, he felt like resting for a little while longer.

Most of the Company were not there when he sat to have his breakfast. Only the Ri brothers, who said good morning to him, were already eating. They didn't look particularly upset; Óin clearly hadn't told them about Bilbo yet.

Everyone else appeared minutes later. Thorin saw that just about all of them were as tired as he was. It seemed as if he wasn't the only one who hadn't slept. Balin informed him that several people needed to speak to him, and he nodded vaguely.

Kíli sat on Thorin's immediate right after he (Balin) walked away. "Morning, Uncle," he greeted in a low voice.

"Hi," he returned wearily.

It was quiet before his nephew spoke again. "Is Bilbo okay? Did he wake up last night?"

"Yes, he woke up. I'll explain more soon," was all he would say.

"What do you mean? Did he become ill?"

"No, but...as I said, I will explain in a bit."

He didn't want to say that he might under the circumstances. Not yet.

Kíli eyed him worriedly, desiring to ask more questions, but chose not to in the end.

Thorin fixed a tray for Bilbo once he had eaten and waited until everybody on his half of the table did as well. They peered at him when he cleared his throat loudly. Glóin nudged Óin, who put his trumpet in his ear.

"I need you all to come with me to the nearest empty room except Óin. There is something important that I have to discuss, but I don't want to do it here," he announced. He didn't want the rest of the people in the dining hall eavesdropping on their conversation. To Óin, he inquired, "Can you please check on Bilbo and give him his breakfast?"

"Aye, Thorin. That won't be a problem." He picked up the tray and left.

Gandalf and Dáin joined his nephews and the Company as they followed him. All of them looked both curious and tense.

When they found an unoccupied room in the next hallway, Thorin locked the door so that nobody would come in. Then he faced the group behind him with a deep sigh.

"I have terrible news concerning Bilbo. No, no. He will live...and he is not ill as far as I know," he assured as a few of them were about to interrupt. "Still, his condition is very unfortunate. This isn't easy for me to tell you, but I will just say it. Besides a concussion, I am afraid that he has lost some of his memory. He has no recollection of anything that happened over the past three years and a number of months. Therefore, he knows nothing of us or the journey. The last thing he remembers is planning for his forty-eighth birthday.

"He was extremely agitated when he woke up last night. I couldn't blame him; he believed that he had been kidnapped. I was able to settle him down once I managed to convince him that he wasn't. After that, I managed to bring him up-to-date on how old he is, what month it is, and where he is. I also told him a couple of things about the battle and why he was injured. I had to reintroduce myself and Óin too."

The room was completely silent when he finished. Everybody gaped at him with horror, dismay, and sympathy. His nephews, Balin, Dáin, and Gandalf did especially. None of them expected this, of all things.

Finally, their astonishment wore off. They either shook their heads or bowed them.

"Poor Bilbo," Ori murmured sadly.

"It _is_ truly unfortunate," Gandalf agreed, stroking his beard.

"What could 'e have done to warrant this?" Dwalin asked no one in particular.

"Nothin', to be sure," Bofur responded.

The others whispered gloomily to themselves in Khuzdûl.

Fíli turned to Thorin. "How...how can we help, Uncle? Is there anything that we can do?"

He pursed his lips. "No...not yet. I told Bilbo that I will reintroduce him to all of you last night. That is, unless he asks me not to. You are to leave him alone if he does. Stress and fear will make his condition worse, and that is the last thing he needs. He is dealing with quite enough of both at present. Am I clear on that?" he demanded of the room at large.

"Yes, Thorin."

"Good. Thank you. I shall have a word with Bilbo, then. I will let you know if he wants to meet you again afterwards."

Everyone nodded. His nephews, Balin, and Gandalf stayed behind while the rest of the Company and Dáin left.

The Wizard frowned in concern. "Is there anything else that happened that you would not mention to the others, King Thorin?"

"Only that _I_ was mostly the reason why Bilbo was agitated. I hugged him after he woke up and tried to comfort him. Of course, it didn't help matters. I wouldn't have done it if I knew that he had lost his memory beforehand," Thorin replied.

Balin patted his shoulder. "It's not your fault, laddie, since you didn't. You didn't reveal anything else to him besides what you told us, I hope?"

He understood the hidden meaning of his question, and he wasn't the only one.

"No. It would have just frightened him more. He was already panicking as it was. In any case, he wouldn't have believed me."

"Oh. I suppose you're right."

Kíli spoke up next. "What are we going to do if his memory loss is permanent?" he queried.

Dread crept into him. He had asked himself this numerous times, but couldn't bear to entertain the thought of it.

"It depends on what Bilbo chooses to do after we tell him everything about ourselves and the journey. He is more than welcome to stay here if he so desires, but I will not stop him if he wants to return to the Shire. It is likely that he will choose to go back to more familiar surroundings. However, he won't be able to leave until mid-spring if that is his decision. Traveling in the winter is dangerous, and I am certain that even he wouldn't think of it. He will have no other alternative but to remain here for the next five or six months."

"But...but...you can't just let him go, Uncle! You care about him too much. Bilbo will figure this out the longer he stays. He deserves to learn the truth about how you feel for him...well...after he has been here for a couple of months."

Thorin's mouth fell slightly...because it was not Kíli who said this.

It was _Fíli_.

He had been told quite a few things last night when he asked, concerning him and Bilbo: _"Is there's something going on here that I've missed before?"_

Most of what had been confided to him were mere guesses or suspicions. Others were observations that were made, from before the argument to yesterday's events. **  
**

He had to admit that everything that he was told was very likely true, if not certainly true. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed it all before.

After all, there was no other reason for why he was so adamant about looking for Bilbo when he didn't show up after the battle. Furthermore, Thorin wouldn't have acted so possessive when he offered to hold Bilbo the previous day if he felt nothing for him.

Speaking of which, Thorin normally would have put on his Mithril coat. To give it to Bilbo as a gift was a _very_ high honor. One never gave someone a Mithril coat unless that person was important to them, or if it was a token of thanks, or an heirloom. Sometimes it was even given out of love, affection, and concern for the other person's safety.

His uncle had obviously let Bilbo "have it as a gift" because he loved him...or had affections for him at the very least. Either way, he was extremely important to him.

He wouldn't have been so depressed after the fight if Bilbo wasn't. Nor would keep him by his side or look out for him so often either.

Balin nodded. "Fíli is right, Thorin."

"Indeed...especially if Bilbo begins to realize that he feels for _you_ what he does not remember. That can happen in situations like yours, and it brings about a great deal of confusion," Gandalf noted.

"No doubt of that..." Thorin muttered.

"And you are aware that you will need to give him the truth should he confide in you."

"Yes, when the time comes. I would have no reason to lie to him. And speaking of Bilbo, I still need to talk to him. Give me an hour at the most. Balin, please tell those who need to speak to me that I will be with them presently."

"Very well. I will."

"Oh, and before we go," Gandalf cut in. "You did say that he remembers everything up to the last three years, correct?"

"Aye."

He stroked his beard once more. "Mmm. Then perhaps I ought to see him first. _If_ he is up to being reintroduced to the Company and Dáin, that is. He is more likely to remember me after I tell him who I am."

Thorin mulled over what he said. "Yes. I can arrange that. A familiar face should make him feel more at ease."

"Let us hope that it does."

Gandalf, Fíli, and Balin walked out of the room then, leaving Thorin and Kíli alone.

The latter hugged him as soon as they were out of earshot. "Will you be okay, Uncle? I know that this is very hard for you."

"I am more concerned with how Bilbo is feeling. He is suffering worse than I am and will continue to for quite some time. And if his condition is permanent, I do not know how he will take it."

"I understand. It isn't fair to either of you. But you _are_ suffering almost as badly as he is."

He did not comment on that, just returned the embrace. "Don't worry too much about me. I'll be all right. We just have to give it time. Perhaps he will regain his memory someday. You never know."

At least, Thorin prayed that Bilbo would, for his sake. He hated for him to be miserable; he knew that his Ghivashel must be.

Kíli sighed. "Maybe. You had better go and see him, though. He has probably finished eating."

"Oh, yes. A half an hour must have passed by now."

He followed Thorin out and they went their separate ways.

XXX

_One hour ago  
_

Bilbo woke up feeling disoriented from lack of sleep. It took him several minutes to become alert and put his thoughts together. He groaned as the previous night's events sprang into them. The fact that he lost three years' worth of memories still overwhelmed him.

No matter how hard he attempted to recall one, it didn't work. He eventually gave up-for the time being-lest he ended up with another headache. It was as if he were in a dark, empty void reaching for solid objects that clearly weren't there. With a sigh, he looked over the room he was to stay in for the week instead.

He could see everything now that it wasn't dark. Someone had obviously lit a number of candles and the fireplace while he was asleep.

The furniture and desk were of high quality. Even the blankets and pillows were sewn with the finest threads, fabrics, and materials. Small sculptures, trinkets, and paintings were here and there. The mantelpiece was also quite elaborate. A loveseat and armchair were near the fireplace.

Whoever slept in this bedroom must have been royalty or of high status. He couldn't fathom why he was allowed to sleep _here,_ of all places.

The clock told him that it was a quarter after seven. He wondered what time breakfast was. He was getting hungry.

About fifteen minutes passed when someone knocked on the door.

Bilbo sat up slowly. "Er...come in!" he announced.

Óin entered the room with a tray in his hands. "Good mornin', Master Baggins."

"Good morning."

"Thorin asked me to bring you yer breakfast. I'll change yer dressings after ya've cleaned up," he stated.

"Oh...all right. Thank you."

He found himself secretly wishing that Thorin had come instead, but he ignored his thoughts.

Bilbo marveled over the amount of eggs, sausages, biscuits, and fruit he had been given. There was almost enough for two Hobbits.

He was remarkably full by the time he was done eating; he was surprised that he could stand as he washed up. Óin waited outside of the bathroom in case he started to feel lightheaded. They only spoke when he asked if he was in any pain as he treated his injuries. Bilbo said no.

There was another knock on the door just as he was about to finish wrapping his head.

"Come in!" Bilbo repeated. Óin didn't seem to have noticed it.

"Mmm? What did ya say, lad?" he inquired as he stuck a trumpet in his ear.

He was thoroughly caught off guard; he hadn't realized that he was deaf.

"Some...somebody is at the door," he explained in a louder voice.

That "somebody" happened to be Thorin, who walked in as he said this. He was carrying a bundle in one arm.

"Good morning, Bilbo," he declared with a small smile.

His heart jumped as he returned the grin with a twittering one of his own. "G-Good morning, Thorin."

"Did you rest well last night?"

"No...I'm afraid not. I admit that I could use more sleep."

"You and me both. I didn't sleep at all."

"Mmm. I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's all right. How are you otherwise? Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you. It was delicious. And I am fine since my headache is gone. I've been better, though."

Thorin nodded in understanding.

Óin patted Bilbo's shoulder. "'M done here for now. I'll get you a walkin' stick in a minute. It'll help if ya get a dizzy spell. Don't use it unless ya have to go to the bathroom, or for an emergency. And I'll check on you often in case ya need anythin', or if somethin' happens."

He inclined his head. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

After he retrieved it, he left him and Thorin alone.

The latter pointed at the chair next to the bed. "May I sit there? I have a few things to discuss with you."

"Oh...uh, s-sure. Go ahead."

Bilbo's heart fluttered again at the idea of being in close proximity to him. It didn't help that he was also startled by his question.

What was the matter with him?

Thorin sat down. "I would have been here sooner, but I decided to bring your other clothes and pipe first. And here are some books that you had been reading before the battle," he remarked.

He frowned. The bundle was rather small. "Are those the only clothes that I brought with me? Did I have more?" he inquired worriedly.

"Yes, but the rest were lost during the journey. The green coat is from a close acquaintance. I have already arranged for more clothes to be made for you. They should last the winter," he replied.

"Thank you. It is very generous of you to do all of this for me, as well as let me sleep in such a magnificent bedchamber. You didn't have to put me here, you know."

"I understand that. However, as your condition is quite serious, I want you to have the best care possible. I would also like you to be comfortable and well looked after while you recover. You are more than welcome to sleep here after you do, or you may go back to the other room that you used. I will show it to you once you are off of bed-rest and let you decide."

"All right. That sounds more than fair. But this is your kingdom, Thorin. Where I sleep is _your_ choice."

He nodded. "That is true, but I am willing to let everyone make their own personal choices regarding their accommodations. The same goes for nearly everything else, within reason, of course."

"Ohhh. Well...thank you again."

Thorin smiled. "You are welcome. I have something to ask you now, if that is all right?" he queried.

Bilbo inclined his head to assure him that it was and motioned for him to continue.

He leaned forward. "I informed my nephews and the Company-the group that traveled with us on our journey-of your condition. They are aggrieved to hear of it and expressed their sympathies. All of them would like to be reintroduced to you, but will wait until you are ready. However, if you would like them to be later on, I can arrange it. But that is your decision to make whenever you choose. You don't have to right now."

Knowing that his friends cared so much about him-even though he couldn't remember them-eased Bilbo's nerves. He was still reasonably anxious, but he knew (without knowing why exactly) that Thorin would never let any distress or harm come to him. Not if it could be helped.

"I, er..." he began after mulling over Thorin's words for some time. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt for them to visit me in the afternoon. As long as they aren't busy, of course. They don't have to if they are. I know that they might be since there was a battle yesterday and all."

"Yes. I have duties to attend to myself and people to speak with. It's going to be a long day."

"Mmm. I suppose you ought to get started, then. You don't want to keep the people that you need to speak to waiting for too long."

"No. Well, I shall talk to my nephews and our friends and we will arrange a time for them to visit. I'll let you know when before they do."

"Good, good. Thank you."

"No problem."

He got up, set the books on the table, and placed Bilbo's clothes on the chair. "I will return as soon as I can manage it. You just rest and listen to what Óin tells you. See you later, all right?"

"Okay."

Thorin grinned and left.

When he found everyone, they had a brief discussion. They all agreed to reintroduce themselves to Bilbo after tea. He was usually in a favorable mood then and that would make everything run smoothly.

Balin turned to Thorin when the others resumed their tasks. "King Thranduil wants to speak to you first, laddie. It's important. Try not to upset him, though. He is _not_ in a good mood," he warned.

He smirked inwardly as he struggled to prevent himself from rolling his eyes. "When is he ever in a good mood?"

Balin led him to another room a few corridors away. One of the Elven guards standing outside of it poked his head in the door. After that, he nodded to them.

"You may enter, King Thorin. King Thranduil has been expecting you," he declared.

"I shall wait here in case you need me," Balin said.

When Thorin stepped inside, he noticed that Thranduil was sitting upright on his bed looking disgruntled. His scowl deepened as he glared at him.

"I will have you know now, King Thorin, that you will be fortunate if I _ever_ agree to help you with another battle. I wouldn't have yesterday if I had known that a little more than half of my army would be wiped out. It was bad enough that I was shot..."

 _Serves you right. It's about time you received your comeuppance_ , Thorin said to himself.

"...I was lucky that the arrows could be removed without much trouble. But Gandalf practically begged me to aid you, so I chose to against my better judgment," Thranduil sneered.

"Nevertheless, I thank you for helping me... _this time_ ," he added with a sarcastic undertone, paying no heed to his griping. "I offer you my condolences and sympathy regarding those in your army who have died last night."

He huffed. "I am not interested in your condolences or your sympathy. I will leave here before the afternoon is half over with the rest of my forces and we shall bury our fallen in Mirkwood. I do not wish to stay here anymore, wounded leg or not."

"Very well. Is there anything that you will need upon your departure?"

"No. I can get whatever I require from my own people, thank you. If you would like to discuss reestablishing the old trade routes as I had mentioned before, we may do so now. Otherwise, I will ask to be left alone, and you can go back to fretting over your consort."

Thorin frowned. "My consort?"

Thranduil rose an eyebrow. "Is Bilbo Baggins not your consort? There must be a reason why you make him stand in the queen's-or consort's-position on your throne," he pointed out.

His heart ached at the thought of Bilbo, but he ignored it. "Wherever I ask him to stand is none of your business. This is not your kingdom. And no, he is not my consort." _Not yet_ , he added in his thoughts.

"You must be courting each other, then. How delightful," he stated, his voice dripping with feigned relish.

"No, we are not courting either." _Yet._

"Then you must be planning to."

"It wouldn't be your business if we were or not. Now, if we are to discuss the trade routes, I will have my Royal Advisor join us."

"Fine. You may ask him to come in. Tell the guard to find my son, _please_..."

XXX

Thorin and Thranduil eventually came to an agreement on the trade routes. Balin and Legolas were still present to make sure that nothing went wrong and that the documents that had been written were signed correctly.

Once they had stiffly bowed to each other, Thorin left to focus on his other duties. There were so many things that had to be done. Some were conferences that he planned to address matters regarding the outcome of yesterday's battle.

First, there were the repairs that still had to be taken care of in the mountain, as well as in Dale. Many of the buildings' walls, streets, or statues there had been broken or destroyed (again). Some of the houses had even been torn apart inside or ransacked. Thorin promised Bard that he would make sure that they received additional help.

Before the repairs were to begin, however, they would mourn those who had perished during or after the battle the next day. They would hold feasts and celebrations three days afterwards.

The Dwarves who had fallen would be taken to back to the Iron Hills to be buried. Dáin planned to return when the mourning and celebrations were over. The Men who had died would be buried outside of Dale.

Both Dáin and Thorin would maintain contact with each other and establish their own trade routes. Bard also desired to, but preferred to wait until everything had settled down.

It was not until Thorin had seen Thranduil out of Erebor (good riddance) that he was able to check on Bilbo. He also needed to let him know that he would be having visitors after tea.

The bedchamber was quiet when he stood in front of it. He thought that Bilbo was asleep until he knocked on the door; he was promptly asked to enter the room.

It turned out that the said Hobbit was reading one of novels that he was given earlier that morning. However, he put it down as Thorin walked over to him.

"Good afternoon," the former said.

"Good afternoon to you too. Are you still well?" he inquired as he sat down next to the bed.

Bilbo snorted. "Óin has asked how I am every time he comes to bring my meal or change my bandages. It gets rather irritating. But I am still well, yes. Nothing wrong has happened so far-concerning my health, that is."

Thorin had to laugh. "I understand how you feel, but he just wants to makes sure nothing does. What have you been up to?"

"I've been reading for the most part, but I took a nap after dinner. I woke up an hour ago. _You_ look like you have been busy."

"Yes. I had a lot of business to take care of, events and festivities to plan. We are having three days of mourning, starting tomorrow after the salute to those who died in battle yesterday. Celebrations will take place after the mourning."

"Mmm. You're going to be very occupied for a while."

"Aye. Oh, and I spoke to my nephews and the Company when I left earlier. And I forgot to mention this, but somebody wants to talk to you first. You might remember him. They will be here after you have tea. I'll stay here to be sure that everything goes smoothly."

Bilbo nodded. "Okay. I'll be ready, then."

Thorin quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You don't look ready. Still nervous?"

"Somewhat, but not as much as I was last night. I'm sure that I don't really have anything to worry about, but I know that it's going to be awkward for us when they reintroduce themselves to me. We had probably just spoken to each other a day or two before the battle, and now...well...Oh, I don't know. Besides, they know almost everything about me, and I have to relearn what I used to know about them."

"That is true, and I know what you mean. This is an odd and disheartening situation to experience, especially for you. I know that you don't want my sympathy, but I am sorry that you are going through this. You never deserved for this to happen to you."

He sighed deeply, but made no comment. He wasn't offended or upset, however.

Thorin eventually stood up to leave. "I will return with everybody once you are finished with your tea. Do you need anything while I am gone?"

"No, but thank you for asking."

"You're welcome. Don't stress yourself out, all right? Everything will be fine."

"I'll try not to."

"Good."

His nephews, Dáin, the Company, and Gandalf were in a room that was not far from the bedchamber that Bilbo was in. They had planned to meet Thorin there after he had visited the said Hobbit that morning.

When the door was closed, he nodded to everyone. "I'm sorry if I have kept you waiting long," he remarked.

Gandalf waved his hand. "Not at all. We have only been here for a few minutes," he declared. "Did you let Bilbo know that we will be visiting him?"

"Yes, I just spoke to him. He is expecting us after tea. I told him that he would see you first, since he might remember you, but I didn't mention your name."

"Very well. I shall see what happens when I talk to him."

Thorin inclined his head. "We must hope for the best. Oh, and we need to figure out how you are all going to reintroduce yourselves to Bilbo. It won't do to overwhelm and frighten him."

Everybody agreed with him.

After deliberating on this, Balin suggested, "Maybe two or three of us should go in at a time. Fíli and Kíli can reintroduce themselves to Bilbo after Gandalf speaks to him. They ought to be first since they are your nephews."

"Those are good ideas," Thorin stated with a pensive nod.

"Balin and I can go next if it isn't any trouble," Dwalin added.

"Of course not."

Glóin spoke up. "He already knows Óin, but he can still be there so that Bilbo can know that he's my brother."

Óin nodded. "Aye. Tha' won't be a problem."

"Dori, Nori, and Ori can go after you. Is that all right with you three?" Thorin asked them.

They bobbed their heads.

"What about you, Dáin?"

He pursed his lips. "I can reintroduce meself to him alone, but I can with Óin and Glóin if you prefer it. I don't mind doin' that."

He eyed them questioningly; they shrugged to indicate that they weren't averse to him accompanying them.

Bofur cleared his throat. "Looks like me brother an' cousin an' I will go last, then."

"Very well. Do any of you have other suggestions?" Thorin inquired next.

No one did, so he told everyone to meet him at Bilbo's room after four thirty. They left afterwards. Óin had to go in any case. He needed to check on the said Hobbit, then bring his tea to him.

XXX

Bilbo hardly paid attention to Óin while he changed his dressings minutes later, or anything else for that matter.

Even though he wasn't nervous anymore, he was worried that his friends would secretly pity him, if they weren't already doing so. That was one of the last things that he wanted. Other than that, he was looking forward to being reintroduced to them.

He realized that this was likely why Thorin planned for everybody to come after he had his tea. He had known him long enough to see that he usually felt content when he did.

The said Dwarf king returned some time after Óin left to take his tray back to the kitchen. Bilbo didn't notice him because he was still deep in thought, but he came back to earth as Thorin spoke.

"Are you sure that you are all right? You seem upset," Thorin observed.

He jumped a little. "Mmm? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. Just in my own world," he replied.

Understanding filled his expression. "I know what you mean. Did you enjoy your tea?"

"Yes, quite so."

"Good to hear." He gestured at the door. "Everybody is waiting outside of the room. They will reintroduce themselves to you in twos and threes after the man I told you about has a word with you first. Óin will be in here so that you will know who his brother is. But if you would rather that they come in one by one, it won't be a problem."

Bilbo waved his hand. "Twos and threes are fine. It doesn't bother me."

Thorin nodded. "In that case, I will call the first person in. I will be in the hall so that you two can be alone while you talk."

"Okay."

He strolled out of the room. Bilbo heard him say something before a tall, aged Wizard with a gray beard, cloak, and hat came in. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember when or where he had seen him.

"Good afternoon, Master Baggins," the Wizard greeted. "Do you know who I am?"

Biting his lip, he responded, "I...I think so. You seem familiar, but I don't know when I saw or met you."

"That is all right. You were only about three or four the last time you did, so it has been a very long time. My name is Gandalf."

Realization dawned on his face several seconds later. "Wait...not Gandalf the wandering Wizard! I remember the excellent fireworks you made! Old Took would have them on midsummer's eve. I would never have guessed that you would still be in business after all of these years," he exclaimed.

Gandalf rose an amused eyebrow. "You said nearly the exact the same thing to me when I invited you to come with us on our journey months ago. You were reluctant to, and even refused to join us at first, but you did in the end...as you can see."

"Yes. So it was _you_ who convinced me."

"I will agree that I had a part in doing so, but I wasn't the only one who did. You will find out more soon."

"Ohhhh. That's a relief. I suppose that I can stop wondering if I was kidnapped, then."

He chortled. "Indeed, you should. Thorin and the others would never mean you any harm."

Bilbo nodded. "Thorin told me this himself."

Gandalf beamed and squeezed his shoulder. "Calm your fears, then. You can trust him. I have known him long enough to be able to say that. I will leave now so that you can get reacquainted with everyone. If it is not any trouble, I would like to visit you tomorrow or the day after," he stated.

"No, it won't be. It has been wonderful to see you, Gandalf."

"Likewise. I wish you a swift recovery."

"Thank you. Good-bye."

They shook hands and Gandalf left. Thorin returned a moment later, and this time, he brought in two young Dwarves. Bilbo could easily see that they were his nephews. One brother had Thorin's dark-brown hair, but it was the blonde one who resembled his uncle the most.

Thorin stood next to them. "Bilbo, these are my nephews Fíli-" He pointed to the blonde-haired brother. "-and Kíli," he added, indicating the brown-haired one. "Fíli is the older of the two, as well as my heir."

They bowed low to Bilbo. "We are at your service, Master Baggins," they declared.

"We are sorry about what happened," Kíli said.

He waved his hand. "Don't be. It isn't your fault. And it is a pleasure to meet you...again. I am also at your service."

An elderly Dwarf and a balding, muscular one entered the room next. He fought the urge to shrink into his bed; the latter looked intimidating.

The snowy-haired Dwarf smiled at him kindly. "I am Balin, Thorin's Royal Advisor."

"And I am his brother Dwalin, Thorin's bodyguard."

"At your service," they concluded as they bowed to him as well.

Óin came in with his younger brother, who Bilbo learned was named Glóin. Thorin's cousin Dáin-lord of the Iron Hills nearby-was with them too. Bilbo was surprised that he wasn't their brother. He looked somewhat like Glóin; they both had red hair and similar facial features.

Then he was reintroduced to Dori, Nori, and Ori. There was something shifty about the middle brother, but Bilbo couldn't imagine what it could be.

Finally, he met two brothers-Bofur and Bombur-and their cousin Bifur.

Like Thorin's nephews, Balin, and Dwalin, each of them murmured "at your service" once they had given their names. Bilbo was just as pleased to meet them again as he was Fíli and Kíli. However, the others did not express their sympathies about his condition, and he was grateful for that. He was initially apprehensive, but soon found himself warming up to everyone a little.

He was quite interested to hear that besides Dáin, Thorin was related to everybody save the Ur family to some degree, and that Dáin had not been a member of their Company.

They all stayed for a short time to give Bilbo some information about themselves. Bilbo listened closely as he relearned that Bombur was the cook. Bofur was a miner and toy-maker. Bifur also crafted toys, and he was also a warrior. Glóin was a treasurer, Dori had great knowledge of foods, teas, and wines, and Ori wrote poems and stories. Nori did not volunteer anything about himself, but Bilbo soon found out that he had a knack for thievery.

Before everyone left, they promised to tell stories about their quest to Erebor.

He smiled. "Thank you. It will be good to have something to look forward to while I am recovering," he remarked.

"You're welcome, Bilbo!" the group chorused cheerfully.

"It's our pleasure, laddie," Bofur said.

"I think that went well," Bilbo remarked once they were gone.

Thorin chuckled. "See? I told you there was nothing to be afraid of," he pointed out.

"Yes."

Patting his back, he stated, "I ought to leave too. I have a few things to take care of before supper. I will ask the others to give you as much alone time as you need when we are not telling you about our journey, and I shall do the same. However, if you want to talk about anything, we are willing to listen."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

Bilbo rose his hand and Thorin clasped it in his own. The former couldn't help but marvel at how warm his hand was as he shook it.

"You are welcome," the said Dwarf returned, interrupting his thoughts. "I will check on you around bedtime, if that is all right."

"Of course. See you then."

A strange expression crossed Thorin's face, but it vanished before he was able to discern it. The former cleared his throat awkwardly with a nod and walked out of the room before Bilbo could ask what was wrong. That was when he (Bilbo) realized that they were still clutching each other's hand until he made to leave.

How odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! I apologize for the long update. I have been dealing with some personal matters lately, but nothing bad. I hope you enjoy the chapter!


	4. An Unexpected, but Forgotten Journey

_He (Bilbo) panted heavily as he rushed around a twilit-blue landscape that had blurred hills or mountains in the distance. He was frantic as he chased after something that he was unable to discern, but even though he couldn't tell what it was, he knew that it was highly important.  
_

_"Come back!" he yelled. "Come back!"  
_

_However, it did not. At one point, it stood still, but zipped away when he lunged at it. He glared at it as it hovered out of his reach_ __mockingly_.  
_

_"Oh, for goodness' sake! **Come here**!"_

_It still refused to, just continued to elude him as it sped into the darkness.  
_

_"COME BACK!"  
_

_It moved faster._

_"COME BACK!"_

Bilbo was still running after it when several loud thumps caused him to wake up with a jerk. He opened his eyes and looked around; he was in his bedroom. He had only been having (a rather symbolic) dream. He sighed deeply. _  
_

The thumps that he heard turned out to be from someone knocking on the door. He sat up carefully.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Thorin and Óin. May we come in?" the former's deep voice responded.

"Er...y-yes, of course."

Óin entered room first so that he could hold the door open for Thorin, who was carrying a tray of steaming food. He noticed that they were wearing dark clothing as they approached him with a grin.

"Good morning. How are you feeling? It seems like you just woke up," the latter observed.

Bilbo nodded. "I did, and I am as well as could be expected."

"Are yeh sure? Yer not feelin' dizzy or in pain or anythin'?" Óin queried.

"No, not at the moment."

"Good. I'll check yer injuries and let you have yer breakfast, then."

Óin was done shortly after, and Bilbo was left alone with Thorin, who placed the tray on his lap.

"Here you are," he murmured graciously.

"Thank you. Er...h-how are you this morning?" Bilbo inquired, feeling flustered. His mind drifted back to the previous evening, when Thorin came to check on him as promised. Bilbo thought that it was kind of him to find time to do that. He knew that Thorin had more than enough on his plate as it was.

With a grunt, the latter sat down on the chair next to his bed. "I cannot complain. But are you certain that you're feeling all right? You look troubled about something."

He gave him a tiny smile as he began to eat his food. "Yes. I just had a strange dream is all, but it's nothing to worry over," he assured him. "Ready for the salute? I wish I could go, even if I can't remember the battle. I would like to give my condolences and respects."

Thorin rose an eyebrow at this abrupt change of subject. However, he decided to let it go for the time being. He sensed that Bilbo was not in the mood to talk about his dream. "I know how you feel, and you can still do that. Give your respects and condolences, I mean. You should be able to hear the horns blowing from this room. And yes, I am ready."

"That's good. I suppose you will be busy after?"

"No, not very. I will have to do my rounds and take care of a few things, but that is all. Not much happens while Dwarves are in mourning."

Bilbo inclined his head in understanding. "The same can be said for Hobbits. Food is cooked for the immediate family and close friends of the person who died too."

"Mmm. Do you mind if I or the others visit after I bring your dinner? If you do, we will leave you alone."

"I will let you know later on, but for now, I don't mind it. I would like to hear the story about our journey."

"Very well."

When Bilbo finished eating, he held out his tray. "Thank you again, for bringing my breakfast to me."

Thorin took it with another smile. "You are quite welcome. I will see you at dinner, and you can let me know if you want company then."

Bilbo felt his heart jump. "All right. Could you let me know how the salute and procession went when you come back...please? I would like to hear about that too."

"Of course. See you then."

He waved and Thorin left.

Bilbo laid down and tried to collect himself. He was still unable to figure out why he was so jittery whenever Thorin was in his presence. Not jittery in a bad way, but still. It did not help if he was as close to him as he was while he placed the tray on his lap either. It gave him an inexplicable urge to kiss him.

He half wished that he didn't feel like this since he couldn't remember why. However, another part of him didn't mind this at all.

With another sigh, he moved his hair out of his eyes. He would have to find this out in due time; he still wasn't prepared to know the reason for it yet.

XXX

After Thorin left Bilbo's temporary room, he went on his morning rounds. It was rather quiet in the Mountain. Not much was going on. Everyone who was able to attend the salute and procession were getting ready for it. Those in convalescence were either asleep or being looked over by Óin and the other healers.

He still felt concerned about Bilbo. He knew that he was likely unhappy with being cooped up in his room with only his thoughts and books for company. Well, until after dinner, that is. He also wondered what happened in his dream, and why Bilbo refused to talk about it. Could it have been that strange or terrible? Or was it that Bilbo did not want him to worry...or both?

Thorin decided to let the situation be. Bilbo would only speak to him about it if he wanted to. There was nothing he (Thorin) could do if he didn't.

At ten thirty, he headed to the Royal balcony. Nearly everybody met him on the way there, excluding Bombur, who was going to blow the horn. Óin did not join them for another ten minutes; he had been checking on Bilbo.

"How is he?" Thorin inquired when he told him this.

"From the way he was lookin', he was bored out o' his mind," he replied. "I can't say I blame 'im."

Everyone laughed a little.

"I don't think that anyone could. I know I would be if I were him. Is he all right other than that? Health-wise, I mean?" Thorin inquired next.

"Yes. No headaches or dizziness so far this mornin'."

"Good."

Gandalf spoke up. "Will he be in the mood for visitors later?"

Thorin pursed his lips. "He said he wasn't opposed to having any when I gave him his breakfast earlier, but he may change his mind for all we know. I shall be having a word with him after dinner to see if he did. However, he does want to hear the story about our quest, so perhaps he will allow all of you to visit him. Why? Do you need to see him?"

"I told him that I would like to yesterday. He said that it wouldn't be any trouble."

"All right. He will be expecting me at dinner. You may be able to see him afterwards."

Gandalf nodded.

The other balconies slowly filled up as the moments passed. Thorin could see the Men assembling in Dale. Nearly everyone was talking in low voices. However, they grew quiet as the horns started to blast through the air.

A lull fell over both the mountain and the city as the salute and procession went underway. The air was tense with mute anguish.

Even though Thorin didn't have to mourn over Bilbo, his nephews, Dáin, or any of the members of his Company, he knew that one incident would have made everything much different. His heart clenched in pain at the idea of grieving over them, especially Bilbo and his nephews, as well as paying his respects to the others who had perished.

Of course, if he had lost his dear One, he wouldn't be standing there in the balcony. He would be among the dead who were being filed past on the grounds below. He thanked Mahal (again) that he found Bilbo when he did. It was horrible enough that he lost his memory, but that was nothing compared to what would have happened if he never went to look for him in time. All the same, he wished that he hadn't lost his memory too.

After a while, the salute and procession drew to close with one last blow of the horns. Everybody went inside to have dinner and begin the first day of mourning, a good number stopping to hug a friend or pat their back in comfort.

There was not much chatter in the dining hall during the meal. Almost everybody was rather subdued, but this was not unexpected given the current circumstances.

Thorin spent part of it (dinner) having a conversation with Dáin. The latter wanted him to know that he was prolonging his stay so that he and the other Dwarves from the Iron Hills could help out with restoring Erebor. Thorin greatly appreciated this and thanked him.

"No problem, cousin. Besides, you'd be lucky if you had gotten anything done if only the fourteen of you were working on the repairs."

"Yes. I cannot argue with that. But some of the Men from Dale volunteered to assist us, so it wouldn't have been only fourteen of us."

"I understand, but more help wouldn't hurt for all that."

"No."

Thorin made a tray of food for Bilbo when he finished eating. He knew that he must be quite hungry by now, even if he did have his second breakfast and Elevensies already. He had asked Óin to bring both meals to him earlier.

He told his nephews, the rest of the Company, and Gandalf where he was going before he left to go to Bilbo's temporary room.

"I will let you know if he would like to have visitors or not. Please wait for me in the Great Hall until I come back from his room."

They nodded.

When he entered the bedchamber shortly after, he found Bilbo holding up his Mithril shirt, examining it with awe and puzzlement. He looked up as he walked over to him.

"Good afternoon, Thorin. Er...what is this? It's magnificent. I found it in my pile of clothes just now. Is it mine? I don't recall having this anywhere in my house. I don't think I ever saw it in the Shire or Hobbiton either," he stated.

"I would be surprised if you did," Thorin remarked, holding out the tray. "That is a vest called Mithril. It is made of the strongest silver steel, so no blade could pierce it. However, it only shields what it covers. It may have saved your life during the battle."

Bilbo placed the tray on his lap. "Thank you. So, it is mine, then?"

He nodded. "Yes. It used to be mine, but I wanted to let you have it as a gift, so that you could be safe during the battle. I didn't know that you had chosen to wear it until Óin checked to see if you had any injuries afterwards, though."

"Oh. Well...thank you. It was kind of you to give this to me. But you didn't have to; it was yours. You probably needed it more than I did."

Thorin waved his hand. "I can always make myself another one. Don't worry about it. Eat up. You don't want your food to get cold."

Bilbo wanted to discuss the matter further, but at his request, chose to let it be instead. He noticed that Thorin was looking oddly remorseful and ashamed about something. His expression concerned him, but he didn't have the heart to ask him why he felt so guilty. He sensed that it would only cause him to be more miserable.

He started to eat. "How did the salute go? There wasn't any trouble, I hope?" he queried.

"No. It went the way it was supposed to."

"Mmm. Did we...er...lose anyone close to us?"

Thorin shook his head. "No, thank Mahal. A good number of people from Dáin's, Thranduil's, and Bard's armies perished, however."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. Who are Bard and Thranduil?"

"Bard is one of the Men in Dale. You will learn more about him soon. He is the close acquaintance of ours who gave you the green coat. Thranduil is the king of the Woodland Realm in Mirkwood."

"Oh. All right."

It was silent before Thorin cleared his throat. "What did you do this morning, after I left? Óin told us that you looked bored out of your mind earlier."

Bilbo chuckled and shrugged. "Just laid here thinking, mostly. When the salute started, I prayed for those who had been lost in the battle. Other than that, I _was_ bored. There really isn't anything for me to do, other than read. I'm tired of being on bed-rest already. Not that it matters. I can't leave the room. I would get lost trying to walk around the Mountain."

He regretted saying this instantly; Thorin looked stricken. He quickly changed the subject.

"Does Gandalf still want to see me?"

Thorin cleared his throat again. "Yes. He asked if you would be in the mood for visitors."

"Sure. He may come if he wants. You and the others can too."

"Do you mind if I ask them to come after I take your tray back to the kitchen?"

"Of course not."

"All right."

Nothing else was said until after Bilbo had eaten, when Thorin stood to leave.

"I won't be returning with everyone because I have to go on a round, but that won't take very long. I should be back in an hour or so."

"Okay. And Thorin...I'm sorry if anything that I said has upset you," Bilbo murmured.

He managed a weak smile as he patted his shoulder gently. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Bilbo. Don't worry," he assured him.

Thorin knew that if anyone ought be apologizing, it was him. If only he had stayed with him at Ravenhill...

He shook himself mentally to prevent that train of thought from continuing. What happened, happened. He could not rewrite the past no matter how much he desperately wished to. Still, he would if he were able.

"Er...Thorin? Is something wrong?" Bilbo queried, interrupting his musings.

He jumped and realized that he had been staring into space. "What? Oh...no. There isn't," he lied. "I will send everyone here and join all of you shortly after. And Bilbo?"

"Yes?"

"I or one of the others will not have a problem with giving you a tour of Erebor when you are off of bed-rest. And it won't take long for you to learn your way around by yourself; you did in your first or second week here."

"Oh? I suppose I don't have much to worry about, then, as far as that is concerned. But I wouldn't mind a tour. It would be better than being cooped up."

Thorin chuckled loudly, and Bilbo secretly marveled over how handsome he looked when he did. It did not seem as if he was one to laugh (or even smile) often. Except when he was visiting him, that is.

"I second that," Thorin eventually agreed. "I don't know anyone who actually likes to be on bed-rest. Well, let me or Óin know if anything happens, or if my nephews bother you. They can be quite mischievous."

Bilbo grinned. "Thank you for the warning."

"You are welcome. See you in a while."

"Okay."

XXX

Bilbo did not have to wait long for Thorin's nephews, the rest of the Company, and Gandalf to show up. The aforementioned Wizard desired to speak to him in private first, so the others did not come in right away.

Gandalf mainly wanted to be sure that he was well-fed, comfortable, and not becoming ill. Bilbo assured him that he wasn't, and that Thorin and Óin had been quite kind and hospitable to him. He also told him that they made him feel welcome there, even though he had been in Erebor for a month or so, as did the others the previous evening.

Nodding in approval, Gandalf beamed. "Excellent. I know that waking up in what is now an unfamiliar place to you must have been a shock to the system."

"It was, yes, but I have gotten over it for the most part, especially since I know that I hadn't been kidnapped. Erebor won't be unfamiliar to me for long, in any case. I will be given a tour of the Mountain after I am off of bed-rest," Bilbo declared.

"You will have a great deal to see and a fine chance to stretch your legs, then. Erebor is much larger than you may have thought it is."

"I don't mind that. It will be better than having to stay in here all day."

Gandalf chuckled, giving him an understanding and knowing look.

Thorin's nephews and the rest of the Company were invited in a moment later. They greeted Bilbo and exchanged pleasantries before finding a place to sit or stand.

"So, laddie," Balin announced from the armchair across the room once everyone had settled down. "You must be more than ready to hear the details of how you came to be here by now."

Bilbo nodded.

He chuckled a little. "Very well. I suppose you would like to go first, Gandalf, since you had invited him to accompany us on our journey? Best to start with that."

"Certainly, as long as none of you have any objections," Gandalf remarked.

"No, of course not."

Everyone else shook their heads.

Gandalf filled his pipe with herbs and lit it before proceeding to tell the story.

He had came to the Shire on the morning of April 26th because he specifically wanted him (Bilbo) to join them on a quest. Remembering that he and his mother loved to have adventures when they were both young, he felt that Bilbo would be quite suited for one.

Bilbo had to laugh when he gave a brief account of his greeting. Gandalf also noted that he did not recognize him at first, just as he hadn't the previous evening. However, as he had mentioned then, he had not seen him since he was a toddler.

"It wasn't until I mentioned your mother and told you my name did you remember me," the latter stated.

He was disappointed that Bilbo appeared to have outgrown his desire for going on adventures. When he said that he was looking for somebody to "share in" one, he (Bilbo) looked somewhat nonplussed and taken aback. Then he told him that he didn't believe that anyone who lived west of Bree would be interested, for adventures were "nasty, disturbing things" that made you late for dinner.

Nevertheless, Gandalf decided that it would be "very good for him, and most certainly amusing" for him if he shared in one anyway. Bilbo protested that there would be no adventures for him when Gandalf said that "he shall inform the others" and went inside. Gandalf disregarded this, and after putting a mark on his door with his staff, he left.

Dwalin picked up the story from there, since he was the first of the Company to meet him, then the others did. Bilbo was appalled to learn what happened that evening, but perked up a bit when they came to the part when Thorin arrived. He was also entranced by the "Misty Mountains" song when they sang it for him.

They left without him early the next morning, on the 28th, for most of them did not believe that he would join them. He had told Gandalf that he couldn't the night before. However, much to their surprise (and Bilbo's own), he came running after them with the contract signed.

It wasn't until they were telling him about the trolls did Thorin come back. He nodded to him with a tiny smile and Bilbo returned the gesture. Ori offered Thorin his seat, but he shook his head and leaned against the wall. Bilbo smiled; it was kind of him to do that. He found it very gentlemanly of him, especially since he was a king.

Thorin noticed that Dwalin looked away from him quickly after he entered the room. In fact, he had been avoiding his eye since breakfast. He had a fair idea as to why, but chose to discuss it with him later.

After this brief interruption, they continued with the story. Thorin was able to participate as well, now that he had joined them.

Bilbo listened to them in wonder and/or amusement over the next several hours. He could hardly believe half of the things they told him; Orcs, Goblins, Wargs, Radagast the Brown. He especially couldn't believe that he had been brave-or foolish-enough to attempt to save the ponies from the trolls. He also felt a surge of gratitude to Thorin after learning that he had saved his life during the Thunder Battle involving the Stone Giants. He felt another, more powerful emotion as well, but chose not to acknowledge for the time being. He gave the said Dwarf king an appreciative smile, which he returned.

There was also a short time in the journey, in the Goblin tunnels, when none of them knew what happened to him. He eventually rejoined them, though they believed he had went back to the Shire after noticing that he wasn't with them at first.

Everything went from bad to worse once Azog and the other Orcs caught up with them. The tree that they had to climb up to evade them and the Wargs nearly toppled over the cliff, and Thorin had gotten seriously injured after trying to fight Azog.

"If you had not tackled the Orc that was about to finish me off and killed him, I would not be here," Thorin commented.

Bilbo himself was relieved that nothing worse had happened. Furthermore, he was pleased that he was able to return the favor.

The Eagles eventually rescued them and left them atop Carrock. Gandalf then revived Thorin, who immediately wanted to know about Bilbo.

If he was glad that he was still alive and unharmed, he did not show it right then. If anything, he _seemed_ upset that Bilbo had risked his life to save his. However, to everyone's amazement and delight, he embraced Bilbo a moment later. Thorin admitted that he was wrong when he said that he wouldn't survive in the wild and that he had no place among the Company. He also thanked Bilbo for saving him and apologized for doubting him.

They left the story off at their entrance into Esgaroth (Laketown) because it was nearly time for supper. Everyone was caught off guard; they didn't notice the hours passing by.

"I think it would be best if we continued this tomorrow. You need your rest and there are things we must attend to," Óin noted.

"I shall have your food brought to you if I don't bring it personally," Thorin added.

Bilbo sighed and nodded, wishing that they could resume the story after supper. However, he knew that arguing wouldn't help matters. Nor would it be good for him, what with his concussion.

Almost everyone bade him good-night except for Thorin and Óin, who would be seeing him later.

 "I won't be long; I know you must be very hungry," the said Dwarf king remarked when the others left.

"Yes, I am," Bilbo admitted, realizing just how much he was.

Thorin chuckled. "I'll try not to keep you waiting, then. Do you need anything?"

Bilbo shook his head. "I can't think of anything at the moment."

"All right. Be sure to keep using your walking stick if you need to walk around."

"I will."

With a nod, Thorin left.

XXX

If Thorin still wished to speak to Dwalin, he didn't get a chance to that night. The latter was having what looked like an important conversation with Balin during supper. Thorin did not see him afterwards either. He left the dining hall early to give Bilbo his food, and when he did his evening rounds, he did not see him anywhere.

He knew that Dwalin must have been feeling guilty about what happened to Bilbo. Perhaps he even believed that he (Thorin) would punish him for it in some way. That would certainly explain why he was avoiding him. Nevertheless, Dwalin had no need be worried. It wasn't his fault that Bilbo had been injured, or that he had lost his memory.

Besides, Dwalin knew him enough to know that if he planned to confront someone, he usually wouldn't wait to do so. He preferred to deal with things head-on.

XXX

While Bilbo ate his breakfast the following morning, he asked Thorin if he and the others would be able to visit him earlier and continue the story. That is, if they had no objections. There wasn't going to be any major events that day or the next, but it was likely that they had personal matters to attend to.

"I will see if they can during my rounds and let you know after," Thorin remarked. "But I am sure that none of them will mind. I certainly don't."

"Good, good. I am quite curious as to what happened after we had gone into Laketown. But let me know if they can't come early," Bilbo added.

"I shall do that. Bilbo...did you get any rest last night? You look tired," he observed.

Bilbo stirred his tea. "Yes, I did sleep, but it doesn't seem as if I had much of it," was all that he would say. He didn't want to mention that he had had that odd dream again, and that it kept him up half the night. Not yet, anyhow.

Thorin nodded in understanding. "I know the feeling."

He left after Bilbo finished his meal, reminding him that he would be back soon. "If Gandalf and the others can come, I will have them join me," he added.

"All right."

Bilbo did not feel as if he had to wait for long. He was absorbed in the book that he was reading, and it only seemed as if several minutes had passed when Thorin returned with everyone else.

Once Bilbo had exchanged pleasantries with them, they made themselves comfortable before picking up the story from where they left off.

Bard the bargeman had successfully managed to smuggle them into Esgaroth by filling the barrels that they hid in with fish. However, they had almost been caught by the guards when Bard tried to sneak them over to his house. All of them would have been in more serious trouble if they had not resorted to drastic measures, and if some of the townsfolk had not helped them.

Bilbo wrinkled his nose when he learned that they had to hide in Bard's toilet; the latter's house was being watched. His son Bain eventually signaled that they could get out of it, and they were able to head inside to dry off and warm up.

It was during that time when Thorin saw a Dwarvish wind-lance outside of Bard's window. When Bilbo had told him that it looked as if he had seen a ghost, Balin told him about Lord Girion, Bard's ancestor.

Thorin asked Bard for the weapons they had paid for him to get afterwards. However, most of them were not pleased with what he procured for them. Balin suggested that they take them and leave anyhow, but Bard said that they couldn't go until the next morning. The guards kept watch at night.

His warning was all for naught. As soon as he left the house, they slipped out and made their way to the city's armory. That was where Bard said they could find the weapons that they needed.

They probably would have gotten away with it had Kíli not fell down the armory's stairs. But this wasn't his fault. He had been struck by an arrow, and the poison from it had been coursing through him, making him ill and weak.

"I'm surprised that we're here at all," Bilbo remarked when he learned of what happened after they were caught by the town's guards. It was thanks to Dwalin that they hadn't been arrested; they would be imprisoned if he hadn't spoken up.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

They celebrated his (Bilbo's) birthday that evening. In spite of the cold he had, he quietly enjoyed himself and thanked them.

Fortunately, he recovered from it by the morning of their departure. Kíli was still sick, however, and Thorin did not allow him to go with them because he believed that Kíli would slow them down. He told him to remain in Esgaroth, and to join them once he healed. Óin volunteered to stay with Kíli and do what he could for him.

Fíli tried to convince Thorin to let Kíli go with them. Thorin was inexorable, telling him that when he was king, he would be more understanding.

In the end, Fíli chose to stay with Kíli and Óin. Thorin told him that he belonged with the Company, but Fíli said that he belonged with his brother.

Gandalf was not at the Overlook when they arrived there, as he said he would be. Bilbo told everyone that they ought to wait for him, but Thorin said that they didn't have time to. They needed to locate the hidden door before sunset, which they believed to be "the last light of Durin's Day".

Bilbo found the stairs leading to it not long after. It was a good thing that he did too; it was nearly dark by then. Thorin praised him and allowed him to go up the stairs first.

Unfortunately, Dwalin was not able to find the keyhole, even though the sun was shining on the spot where the door was. His and Dori's attempts to break it down also produced no results.

The sun vanished behind the mountain range, then, along with any hopes that they would finally enter Erebor. Thorin asked Balin if they have missed something, but the latter only responded that nothing could be done. They had lost the sun's light.

Almost everyone left to go back down the stairs. Only Bilbo stayed behind, telling them that they couldn't give up, but they didn't listen.

...Until they heard him yell for them to come back. He had found the keyhole; the last light was actually the last _moon_ of autumn, not the sun. Thorin returned just in time to prevent the key-that he dropped on the ground-from falling over the edge of the cliff. He carefully picked it up and opened the hidden door.

None of them knew what had happened during the time Bilbo went to search for the Arkenstone until a day or two afterwards. They had spent a greater part of the night trying to evade Smaug and keep him from killing them all after Thorin-and the others-had gone to make sure that Bilbo was still alive. Once Smaug had the idea that the people of Esgaroth had a part to play in Thorin's return to Erebor, however, he soon left the Mountain to destroy the town.

They stayed outside until dawn, thinking that Smaug would come back after setting fire to Esgaroth. It was horrible, listening to the screams and cries as they waited in fear. Bard eventually managed to kill him with a Black Arrow before sunrise; Bilbo had seen Smaug fall.

Their happiness did not last long. Bilbo was horrified to relearn that Thorin had been stricken with the dragon sickness for the second time. The first time he was, it was before he went to check if Bilbo was alive, but it remained dormant until after Smaug was killed. He was also hell-bent on obtaining the Arkenstone and all but ordered everybody except Bilbo and Balin to find it.

During that time, Fíli, Kíli, Bofur, and Óin joined them. They were thrilled to see that the others were alive and vice versa. They feared that Smaug had finished them off before he left the Mountain.

Another miracle followed the next day; Thorin's dragon sickness was gone as suddenly as it had come. Most of them did not know why, except for Thorin himself. He called off the search for the Arkenstone, but asked everyone to tell him if they found it.

The next two weeks were quite busy, what with King Thranduil and Bard's visit, and restoring Erebor. They were also helping out Bard and the other Men with whatever needed to be taken care of in Dale. Thorin held conferences with his nephews, Bilbo, and Balin too.

"I was allowed to be a part of them?" the said Hobbit inquired in surprise.

"Yes," Thorin responded. "I will explain why at another time."

"Okay."

Bilbo's astonishment turned to dismay and shame after finding out that _he_ was the one who had taken the Arkenstone. The argument between him and Thorin sounded equally disturbing. He couldn't believe that they had yelled and cursed loud enough for the others to hear them either. Even when he was furious, he rarely ever swore.

Thorin appeared to be just as remorseful as he was, but he looked as if had forgiven him as well. Bilbo was relieved. He did not wish for Thorin to hold a grudge against him over something that he had no recollection of doing.

Neither of them fared well after the night of their argument. Óin had actually believed that Bilbo had been ill; he had grown pale and fatigued. However, the latter eventually revealed that he was depressed. This was after Gandalf finally arrived in Erebor to warn them about Azog's army.

Thorin did not include Bilbo in the preparations of the battle due to the state of his health, although he eventually gave him the option to fight after it improved. Bard and King Thranduil, who had agreed to help Thorin, came to assist him and Dáin with the plans.

Azog's attack on Erebor began after sunrise two days previously. Gandalf told Bilbo that he found him as Thorin had asked him to, and they left for Dale to stay as safe as possible.

Everyone gave their own account of the battle, describing how fierce and barbaric it was. Dáin gradually lost less than half of his army, as did Bard, but Thranduil's was hit the hardest. The aforementioned Elven king himself had been shot with two arrows. Fortunately, they were not poisonous.

"We are lucky to have made it out alive ourselves," Dwalin remarked. Bilbo and the others fervently agreed with him.

It was late in the afternoon when King Thranduil's son, Legolas, informed Gandalf that Bolg's army was approaching them from the north. Because Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, and Dwalin were in Ravenhill-which was in the north-they were in the line of fire.

Bilbo left Dale to warn them, in spite of the fact that Gandalf did not want him to. He was afraid that he would be seen.

He must not have been, however; he made it to Ravenhill unscathed. When he told them about Bolg, Thorin realized that it was a trap. Azog meant for this to happen so that they would be drawn into the western tower. He decided to draw him out himself with Fíli and Kíli in tow and asked Dwalin to join them once he made sure that Bilbo was safely on his way back to Dale. Bilbo wanted to help them, but Thorin said no.

The latter managed to kill Azog not long after. Kíli, Beorn, and Tauriel-a "red-haired she-elf" who was the captain of King Thranduil's guard-slaughtered Bolg as well. The other Goblins and Orcs were either dead or mortally wounded.

They had won the battle.

"I decided to look for you and Gandalf after Óin took care of my injuries. Fíli said that neither of you were outside or in the Mountain when I asked about you two. It wasn't until Gandalf came back without you that I realized that you had never returned to Dale. Dwalin had told me that you were separated at Ravenhill earlier, so I went to check and see if you were there first. I found you lying unconscious in the east tower and brought you back here. Óin tended to the cut on your head, and I carried you over to this room after. I stayed with you until you woke up. I wanted to make sure that you would. And as you know, it wasn't until you did that I realized that you had lost your memory," Thorin concluded, finishing the story.

Bilbo nodded and grew quiet. Then he said, "May I please be left alone for a while? I want to think all of this over. It's a great deal to take in."

"Of course," Thorin murmured.

"Not a problem, laddie. I will check on ya before yeh go to bed. Plus, it's nearly time for supper," Óin added, looking at the clock.

After they had gone, Bilbo spent a long time processing everything that he had been told.

They had clearly endured utter insanity for the most part. Nevertheless, they had good times to make up for it. Thorin even managed to reclaim his home as well. What with everything that had happened, he was fortunate to have done so. He almost did not make it to Erebor, and he could have...been lost during the battle because of Azog. The idea of it tore at his heart, though he could not understand why.

He would give Thorin an apology for hiding the Arkenstone too. He knew that it was likely unnecessary; Thorin did not look upset with him. Still, he thought that he owed him one, at the very least. He also grateful to him for saving his life a second time.

A wave of the powerful emotion that he felt the previous afternoon surged through him again, but he chose to ignore it. He decided that it had to do with the fact that he was glad to be alive, even if he couldn't remember what had happened in the last three years. He prayed that he would someday.

In the end, he believed the whole story. Nobody exaggerated or said anything that was untrue; Thorin or the others would have called out the one who did. However, there were several times when he had the feeling that not all of it-the story-was being told. If this was so, then what had been kept from him?

Thorin returned with his supper forty-five minutes later. Bilbo was hoping that he would come back. He still wished to speak to him.

"You all right?" the former queried as he gave him the tray and sat down.

Bilbo set it on his lap with a nod. "Thank you, and yes, I am." He started to eat. "Er...Thorin?"

"Mmm?"

He gazed at his food. "I'm...I'm sorry for hiding the Arkenstone and not telling you that I had. But from what I have gathered, I only did it to help you."

Thorin placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. And don't worry. I have already forgiven you. If anything, I thank for you for keeping it from me. There is no knowing what would have happened otherwise, only that we would be worse off than we are now. I am also sorry for everything I said during the argument, though you don't remember what was said."

"In that case, you are more than welcome. I forgive you too. Oh, and thank you for saving my life two times. I don't know if either of us would be here if you had not pulled me up from the cliff, and I probably wouldn't be alive had you not found me in Ravenhill when you did."

Thorin looked away gloomily and dropped his hand. "You are welcome, Bilbo, but...I only wish that I had taken you back myself. I would have prevented you from being harmed, and I would have placed you in Gandalf's arms if I needed to."

Bilbo's expression mirrored his. "I understand how you feel, but what happened to me isn't your fault any more than it is Dwalin's, so there is no point in blaming him or yourself. Besides, you don't know what would have happened if you had taken me back instead. I still may have ended up in this condition, for all we know."

"And for all we know, you may not have. I don't blame Dwalin for what happened either. I know that it's not his fault."

With that, the subject was closed. Thorin still looked remorseful, but Bilbo let him be this time. He could see that nothing would change how he felt anytime soon. And that made him curious.

Was Thorin allowing him to sleep in this room, keeping a close eye on him, and doing other things for him because he felt guilty about what had happened? Was he doing it because they had-perhaps-been very close? Or was it a combination of the two?

He could believe that they had been close. They had saved each others lives, after all. However, it did not explain why "neither of them fared well" after their argument.

...Or did it?

Bilbo stopped that train of thought immediately. 

He ate the rest of his food and was leaning into a pillow when his curiosity got the better of him. "Thorin?"

"Yes?" the Dwarf king inquired.

"Er...were we...or should I say are we...friends?"

Thorin nodded as he took the tray. "Yes. We...We were very good friends," he replied vaguely. "We still can be, but only if that is what you would like. I will understand if you don't."

Bilbo grinned. "I don't think I would mind being your friend, especially after I get to know you more again."

He smiled back softly and ruffled his hair. Bilbo felt his cheeks tingling.

"I will be a better one this time around. I promise you," the former vowed.

"You don't have to do that. I'm sure that you weren't a bad friend."

Thorin gave a deep sigh and turned away from him again. "No. I never tried to be...but what with the argument...and afterwards...I should have been done the right thing. Everything should have gone differently."

Bilbo sensed that he meant something else, but did not question him. Thorin did not elaborate either. He just nodded to him before he left, and Bilbo spent the rest of the evening continuing to mull things over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Sorry for the long update. I had a bit of trouble with this chapter. I was also busy during the past few months with my job and life in general. My grandmother passed away on February 28th, and it was hard to write for a while after that. Plus, I will be starting my second job on Monday. I will try to update more often, but please forgive me if I don't. Hope you liked the chapter, though! Hope to see you guys soon!)


	5. Author's Note

A/N: Hello, everyone. I am sorry that I am not writing and posting much, but the store I work at has been very understaffed lately, and I haven't really had time. I don't know when I will write or post any more chapters or new stories (I'm planning on two new fanfics and trying to work on one), but I will when I can. I apologize for any inconveniences. I am also unhappy about this. Thank you for understanding.

~Iridescent Thilbo Bagginshield~

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE REVIEW!


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